


ephemeral

by MaddieContrary



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Creampie, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Inappropriate Use of Time Travel Knowledge, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Selfcest, Somnophilia, Threesome - M/M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieContrary/pseuds/MaddieContrary
Summary: “You’ve clearly thought of everything,” Will murmurs. “It all sounds too convenient. I still don’t know what you expect me to change. I can’t tell myself that you’re the Ripper without proof, and we know you’d have taken care of that. This was me when I was still suffering from encephalitis, isn’t it?”Hannibal’s eyes crinkle, pleased at Will’s deductions. “Yes. I believe at this point, your encephalitis was at its peak, and it’s unlikely that he will be awake from anything at the moment, should you wish to do anything to him. We could always drug him if you prefer.”Will’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. That explains the small bag that Hannibal had brought with him, then. “You want me to… take advantage of myself?”***Hannibal figured out the equation for time traveling and uses it to bring Will back to his past.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 52
Kudos: 250
Collections: hannigram





	ephemeral

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [THIS BRILLIANT TWITTER THREAD](https://twitter.com/penseeart/status/1254961281934614528?s=20). Original prompt is by [grantairess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsfwgrantaire/), which quickly evolved into something glorious when [pensee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensee/), [Strats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/) & [Kazu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nise_kazura/) chimed in with their perfect imageries. Thank you for your excellent service.
> 
> The basic premise being: post-S3 Hannibal & Will travels back to the past to fuck up S1 Will's life. Sorry, S1 Will, I blame you for looking so pretty when you suffer.
> 
> This was honestly just an excuse to write (unrealistic) porn, but of course the porn ended up being like 30% of the fic because they won't stop talking.
> 
>  **PLEASE MIND THE TAGS** & enjoy.

Will thought that Hannibal was being facetious when he had mentioned to Will about his experimentations with time travel.

He remembered having raised his eyebrow skeptically at his husband while they were having drinks in the study, Hannibal smiling widely in return. “I’m sorry, have you changed your name again? Do you go by Marty McFly now?” he had asked, amusement coloring his tone.

“I can assure you we are still on our sixth identity at the current moment,” Hannibal replied nonchalantly. “Your insistence that I wouldn’t ‘get’ your pop culture references is just demeaning at this point.”

“You were the one who told me you haven’t seen any of the classic pop culture movies. You must have had some expectations that I would make use of that information against you somehow.”

Hannibal sniffed in disdain. “You’re changing the subject on purpose.”

“Clearly it’s not working.”

“It isn’t. Would you like to join me next time?”

“Join you where?”

“You’re being deliberately obtuse, Will.”

Will was intrigued, but clearly disbelieving still. “Okay,” he said after a moment of deliberation. “I mean, what’s the worst you can do to me after all that we’ve been through? Getting stuck in a time loop seems like the best alternative.”

“Excellent,” Hannibal said, grinning. “I will make preparations for tomorrow morning then. You should have a good rest tonight. We’ll need the energy.”

“Okay Marty, whenever you’re ready tomorrow then.”

Will pauses when he blinks his eyes open.

The ground beneath his feet feels solid, the soil drenched in the aftermath of rain, the smell of petrichor in the air as he makes out the shape of a house from afar. It’s silent, eerie, the mist obscuring his senses. He can make out a single source of light from the living room of the house, the soft orange light luminescent against the windows.

The house looks like a boat at sea.

His ears prick at the sounds of movement behind him, Hannibal slowly coming up to stand next to him, taking in the view.

“You brought me back to Wolf Trap,” Will says flatly.

“I did. Would you like to go in?”

“Is that… allowed? I think I’m still sleeping in there. It feels like _I’m_ the one who’s still dreaming. Are we in your mind palace? Have you not done enough to make me doubt my own mind?”

Hannibal chuckles lightly. He extends his hand to reach out to Will, gripping his shoulder tightly. “I will always be your anchor, Will.”

“Yes, you do always drag me down to the deepest depths of hell.”

“Will.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I making this uncomfortable for you? Because this is… disorienting.”

“I apologize, I should’ve prepared you mentally for this. I thought you would be well-equipped to deal with the effects of time travel, considering your strong mental forts. Would you like to go back?” Hannibal squeezes his shoulder again.

Will feels the warmth from Hannibal’s hand seeping into his bones, the pressure grounding him, an indication that he’s awake and not sleepwalking into another one of Hannibal’s machinations. No, this time he had willingly walked into it.

He takes a deep breath and steals a glance at Hannibal. “We’re here. Might as well go and see what it is you wanted from me.”

Hannibal smiles, his hand falling to his side once again. “Then let’s go in, shall we?”

They enter the house silently, though the dogs are immediately on high alert when they sense Will and Hannibal’s presence. Hannibal had the foresight to bring sausages to feed the inquisitive dogs because of course he did. He produces the sausages from the small bag he had brought with him. Will didn’t ask what was inside at the time because he really couldn’t care less. Clearly, he should have been more curious.

Will stands still at the entrance, taking in the sight of his old house. The sense of nostalgia for what he had lost in the aftermath of Hannibal’s fixation on him hits him harder than he thought it would. Several of the dogs (his dogs, Will thinks, once upon a time) had approached him while he was observing Hannibal feeding his pack, Hannibal making himself very much at home as if the house were his own. It probably was, in a sense. Hannibal has always made himself at home in every aspect of Will's life. 

“Hi, Winston,” Will says softly, kneeling to scratch Winston’s ears. Winston is eyeing him curiously, looking back and forth between him and the figure lying prone on the bed at the corner of the house. If he doesn't know any better, he would say that Winston’s confused.

“I think we should let the dogs out,” Will says to Hannibal. “They’ll make some noise otherwise. Whatever it is you have planned, I don’t want the dogs involved in it.”

Hannibal looks at him briefly, nodding his acceptance as he feeds the dogs the last of the sausages.

Will leads them out quietly, letting the dogs chase each other and sniff around the expansive grounds. The chilly morning air doesn’t seem to bother them much, though some of them are content to just roll around on the ground, entertained by each other’s antics. He sighs longingly, the pain in his heart a forgotten ache. After all the years he’s spent by Hannibal’s side, he thought he would be able to revisit his past without regrets.

He hears Hannibal calling for him softly and he makes his way in, shutting the door quietly behind him. The dogs will be able to occupy themselves for a few hours when they’re outside. He’d let them in later.

Hannibal has taken one of his chairs and brought it closer to the bed at the corner of the living room. He was already seated comfortably on it, content to observe the other man sprawled on the bed.

Will slowly approaches them and sits at the edge of the bed, curious despite himself.

He’s hit by a strange sense of déjà vu as he looks down at the man occupying the space. It still feels as if he’s sleepwalking through a dream, and the surreal sight of his younger self is making his head hurt. The younger Will seems to be in deep sleep, though there are occasional twitches of movement, his body jerking and his eyes rolling behind his eyelids.

It sets Will’s teeth on edge. Clearly, this was when he was still suffering from nightmares – whether it was because of the killers he’s looked into or because of the encephalitis, he couldn’t tell. He still doesn’t know when exactly they have traveled back to. He had been content to let Hannibal choose the timeline they would travel to without asking for details because he didn’t think they would _actually_ travel through time. In hindsight, he should’ve really known better and prepare for all possibilities when it comes to Hannibal.

“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here, Hannibal?”

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at Will’s irritated tone. “I’ve told you before we went into this, Will. You’re fully in control of the experiment. I’m merely here to help you shape your alternate self, should you wish to.”

Will huffs wearily at that, shaking his head. “You’re always so goddamn curious what will happen, constantly making a move on the chessboard.”

“The fact that I’m still alive after _your_ move on the chessboard over a particular cliff is very telling of your own motivations. Would you deny yourself the chance to see how different things could be if you changed one thing in this dimension?”

Will turns the thoughts in his head, aware of Hannibal’s heavy gaze on him, perpetually curious. “What would be the consequences? What if I tell him you’re the Chesapeake Ripper now? Would our timeline cease to exist then? What would happen to us?”

He hasn’t had the chance to ask this of Hannibal before since he had assumed that this was another one of Hannibal’s mind games. But this… This feels too real to him. He admits to feeling a little bit of trepidation at the thought of not having Hannibal back by his side when this little experiment of theirs is over.

Hannibal hums softly, his gaze heavy on Will. There’s hunger in Hannibal’s eyes when he takes in the sight of Will sitting so close to this younger version of him; a greedy monster seeking to sink his teeth into both of them.

Hannibal smiles in response to Will’s knowing smirk.

“I’ve been experimenting with my past self for several years when I first discovered how to travel back within a given timeframe,” he answers. “As far as I’m aware, the minor ripples I’ve made in those timelines have not affected me in the current timeline. I’m continuously aware of my own thoughts and there have been no gaps in my memory thus far, leading me to think that those ripples have branched off into other alternative timelines that are separate from us. It’s been several years since I’ve last done it, of course, but the fact remains that there are little to no repercussions to our present selves. At the very least, I have not seen evidences showing otherwise.”

Will frowns at the implication of there being alternate versions of him roaming around, curious if the other Will Grahams are faring better than him in terms of the hands they’re dealt with. He wonders if there’s a universe where he and Hannibal had never met each other, like ships passing in the night.

“You’ve clearly thought of everything,” Will murmurs. “It all sounds too convenient. I still don’t know what you expect me to change. I can’t tell myself that you’re the Ripper without proof, and we know you’d have taken care of that. This was me when I was still suffering from encephalitis, isn’t it?”

Hannibal’s eyes crinkle, pleased at Will’s deductions. “Yes. I believe at this point, your encephalitis was at its peak, and it’s unlikely that he will be awake from anything at the moment, should you wish to do anything to him. We could always drug him if you prefer.”

Will’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. That explains the small bag that Hannibal had brought with him, then. “You want me to… take advantage of myself?”

The flash he sees in Hannibal’s eyes is answer enough. “Consider it as an experiment. A way for you to resolve your aggression towards your past self.”

“You mean my ignorant past self,” Will says through gritted teeth, his hand bunching in the bedsheets.

Hannibal inclines his head. “If you wish to see it that way. However, I believe you did not suffer from blind ignorance as Alana once did. Rather, you were looking for companionship and understanding from the people closest to you, and your sickness has clouded your eyes as to how dangerous I was.”

Will snorts at Hannibal’s admission. Both of them know that they’re both dangerous to each other now, and it’s safer for everyone else that it remains that way. “Poor, stupid Will. Always looking for connections, and desperate for the one thing that he thought would anchor him,” he says bitterly.

“Will,” Hannibal admonishes, his eyes dark and heavy on Will. “You are the most brilliant man I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. We are equals now. You know I would gladly suffer at your hands, should you require that of me. I’ve wanted nothing more than for you to realize your full potential.”

He deflates at that, scoffing softly. He turns away to observe his past self, the man blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him. It’s hard for him to reconcile this man as “Will”; he _looks_ like Will Graham, but he feels a sense of detachment at the sight of him. The whole thing feels like a surreal Twilight Zone episode he used to watch as a child.

There’s been little to no movement from the other man for the past few minutes, but there’s a sheen of sweat covering his body, evidence of his feverish state and constant nightmares.

“You just want to watch me fuck myself,” Will states baldly, raising an eyebrow at Hannibal. “I didn’t think you could get any kinkier. But here we are, I guess.”

Hannibal smiles his usual Mona Lisa smile, quietly pleased. “I’d be gratified to witness whatever you decide to do, Will. I’ve said it many times before: you will never cease to amaze me.”

Will grins and gets up from the bed, making his way to Hannibal and kissing the man deeply before pulling away. He shrugs out of the sweater he’s wearing and begins to unbuckle his belt. Hannibal’s hands interrupt his motions, the other man choosing to undress Will in his reverent way. Will allows it, his hands caressing through Hannibal’s hair until he’s finally naked.

“There’s only one rule here, Hannibal,” Will says, grinning as he retrieves a bottle of lube from the nightstand and moves to the bed to straddle the other Will. “You only get to watch. You don’t get to touch yourself. That’s the only way I’m going to actually go through with this.” He lets the silence drag for a moment while he begins to undress the unconscious man beneath him. “Do you agree?”

Hannibal visibly swallows at the sight of Will undressing his past self, the man pliant as he’s stripped naked. “Yes, Will. I agree.”

Will grins. “Good boy.”

With that, he turns to his past self, stroking the man’s face and wiping off the sweat from his fevered brow. He uncaps the bottle of lube and begins to coat his fingers with it before bringing them to the other man’s puckered entrance. Will begins to open himself up, the squelching sounds obscene in the heavy silence. He’s aware that Hannibal will be avidly watching his every move, but he ignores him, focusing on the man he’s straddling instead.

Will will never admit it to Hannibal, but there’s some sort of perverse delight in violating himself while he works his demons through the act, though he manages to stay dispassionate at this turn of events. He fingers the younger Will thoroughly while the man sleeps on, his body limp and loose. He twitches occasionally at Will’s touch, his cock rapidly hardening from the attention to his prostate.

He slips his fingers out after a few more minutes, coating the leftover fluid onto his own erection as he watches the other man’s heaving chest. He has never been narcissistic – objectively, he knows he’s good-looking, and his looks have definitely made it easier for him to lure unsuspecting victims to their home in Cuba.

To see himself lying on the bed, sweaty and delirious with fever and nightmares was another thing altogether. He looks so vulnerable, sprawled out on the bed with his legs spread open and ripe for the taking. Will can see the appeal this would have had for someone like Hannibal, who delights in his surrender every time they’re intimate.

He strokes himself a few more times before aligning his cock to the other man’s entrance, the penetration sinfully smooth, the body beneath him lax in sleep. It’s satisfying to hear the smack of skin against skin as his balls connect with the man’s ass, Will shuddering in pleasure at the feeling of being buried completely inside. The younger man’s eyes had fluttered at the motion, his breath hitching slightly before he settles back into sleep, seemingly unaware of what’s being done to him.

Will grabs the younger man’s legs, pulling them apart and lifting them higher, intimately aware that every motion he makes provokes a reaction from the other man: his brow furrowing in distress even in sleep, his fingers twitching helplessly on the bed, his head shaking slightly as Will pulls out halfway before thrusting in again.

He picks up the pace, his own breathing heavy with exertion, grunting in pleasure. It feels too good to fuck into the pliant body beneath him, his cock enveloped in his own body's warmth as he thrusts in and out in rough movements. He briefly thinks that he would love to see the confusion on his own face as he’s taken, to hear the sounds spilling out from his mouth as he’s fucked just like this.

He doesn’t know if these are his thoughts or Hannibal’s, but he feels a burning need to let his younger self see that this is happening to him right now due to his own naïveté, and how helpless he is to stop it. He wants to hurt this Will so very badly; he wants to force his pleasure out of him and mark him for all the world to see. Perhaps it’s his own self-disgust at how blind he was, unable to look beyond Hannibal’s perfect person suit. He wonders fleetingly if Hannibal has intended all this to happen.

Will takes the other man’s cock in his hand, jerking it in tandem with his rough fucking, and it takes only a few more thrusts before the other Will comes, his semen splattering onto his face due to their positions. Will groans at the sight, the sullied man beneath him the very image of debauchery by his own hands.

He’s so focused on seeking his own completion that his orgasm takes him completely by surprise, his hips stuttering as he comes deep inside the other man. Will gasps and groans in pleasure, and he barely hears the soft movements behind him before Hannibal intrudes into the moment in order to kiss him roughly.

Will moans into the kiss, Hannibal’s tongue gracelessly entering his mouth as he struggles to come back to himself. He feels wrought with emotions, his aggression and passion towards the other man culminating into a heady combination of pleasure and power.

He sobs in relief when Hannibal finally pulls away, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of both Will intertwined with each other.

“Will,” Hannibal breathes out, his cheeks flushed with arousal. He cups Will’s face in his hands, looking at him in awe. “You were magnificent, mylimasis.”

Will’s breaths are coming out fast and heavy, both of them breathing into each other’s lips for several moments. He's too overwhelmed at the multitude of sensations inside him that coming back to himself takes longer than it should in his disassociated state. He finally takes a deep shuddering breath, pulling back slightly to glare at Hannibal.

“You’re cheating, Hannibal,” he rasps, biting Hannibal’s lip for good measure.

“You never did say I couldn’t touch you,” Hannibal says, chuckling as he pulls away from Will reluctantly. “I wish I could paint you like this, both of you beautiful in your own ways.”

Will huffs. He slips his cock out and stares at the come flooding the other man’s ass and feels a vicious satisfaction at the thought of having claimed this Will first. He doesn’t give much credence to the concept of virginity or there being a first time with a man or a woman, but he takes intense pleasure in knowing that he has tainted this Will for the Hannibal in this universe. 

“I guess I know exactly how you feel when I give in to you sometimes,” Will says, smirking as he cleans himself up with a cloth before putting on his boxers again. Hannibal just beams at him from the bed, proud and pleased. “And don’t think I will let you get away with that kiss—”

Will’s words trail off when he hears the soft snick of the door opening behind them. He turns to the door and is greeted by the unexpected sight of another Hannibal entering the house. The newcomer’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly – Will wouldn’t have noticed at all if he wasn’t looking for it, but he only knows the man’s telltale reactions because he knows Hannibal all too well.

Will turns his eyes accusingly at his Hannibal. “You fucker,” he drawls, more amused than pissed. “You knew this would happen, and you set us all up to be here at this exact moment.”

Hannibal smiles serenely. “Forgive me, I couldn’t resist such a perfect opportunity to take the experiment to another level.” He leans down on the bed, caressing the other Will’s curls in a leisurely manner.

Will shakes his head. “When we go back, I’m taking you for another cliff-dive.”

“I will welcome any retribution you have in mind for me,” Hannibal says graciously, his hands wiping the traces of come off the sleeping Will’s face and licking it appreciatively.

“You are a sick bastard,” Will says wryly. He turns back to the man he has dubbed as the Other Hannibal in his head, smiling slightly at the man’s nonplussed expression. He’s still rooted to his spot by the door, his eyes darting warily between the three of them. “Well, come on in. You missed the show, but I think you’re here for one of your own.”

“Will,” the Other Hannibal breathes out, his gaze focused on Will now. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and there are several cuts on his face. Will knows the jacket he’s wearing by heart; it’s the one Hannibal had been wearing in Will’s own timeline when he had surrendered himself to Jack in retaliation to Will’s rejection.

“Hannibal,” Will says, his tone measured. He’s still in his boxers, and he thinks Hannibal can probably guess what he has been doing to the other Will from their state of undress. “I suppose you used your calculations to reverse back time and you come here intending to mark me in any way you can?”

If the Other Hannibal is visibly thrown by Will’s question, he doesn’t show it. “It seems I’m not the only one who has figured out how to travel back through time. I assume you’re from the future, but I suppose you could be from an entirely different timeline.”

“You know what, _I_ don’t even know anymore,” Will admits, shrugging. He takes the seat that Hannibal had vacated earlier and beckons the Other Hannibal to come closer. “I didn’t think he was telling me the truth when he said he’s Marty McFly, so.”

“Will, please,” Hannibal admonishes him from the bed.

Will smirks, but his eyes are still on the Other Hannibal. He looks thoroughly devastated. It must’ve been mere minutes or perhaps hours since his Will had rejected him. “So how do you intend to mark me then?” he asks, curious.

“I…” Hannibal swallows heavily, looking lost. “I had intended to come here and ensure that my counterpart in this timeline could not proceed with framing you for Abigail’s murder. Beyond that, I had no other plans. I only wanted to see if a better outcome is possible, for both of us.”

Will finds himself flummoxed. He didn’t think that Hannibal had been so heartbroken by his rejection that he would seek to rewrite their entire history. “I guess this is the first time you’ve traveled back into the past,” Will speculates.

“Yes. I couldn’t think of anything else when you had rejected me so thoroughly.” The Other Hannibal steps closer to the bed, staring at the man sleeping restlessly under his Hannibal’s soft touches. He turns his gaze to Will. “You are… a very different Will.”

Will hums at that. “A lot of things have happened, suffice to say.” There’s an old pain tugging at his heart at the thought of rejecting the man so many years ago. He pushes it aside.

“Well, since you’re both here,” Will continues, sitting back in the chair more comfortably and crossing his legs. “You can both get what you’ve always wanted. Helpless, weak Will Graham begging for someone to save him from his own darkness, yearning for a certain doctor to be his paddle in more ways than one.”

The reactions from each Hannibal are both amusing and highly telling. His Hannibal is beaming at him with affection, while the Other Hannibal looks almost offended at being exposed so easily.

His Hannibal turns to his counterpart with a wide smile. “How fortunate then. It seems that we are both here for the same reason. It was our intention to prevent Will’s incarceration in this timeline as well,” he says.

Will rolls his eyes internally. Such _lies._

As if sensing Will’s thoughts, Hannibal throws a brief smile at him before turning back to the other man. “Your main intention may be to prevent our wrongs against Will, but that’s not the only reason, is it?” There’s a weighty pause before Hannibal continues. “There’s really no need for you to stand on ceremony now that you’re here. I suggest we take him together and give him a more pleasurable nightmare to think about.”

The Other Hannibal looks only slightly surprised at the suggestion, but the emotion is swiftly replaced with intrigue. There’s a considering silence before the Other Hannibal speaks again. “Very well.”

Will is amused at how everything is working to his Hannibal’s favor, but he feels content, his body sated and relaxed after finding his own release. He might as well sit back and enjoy the show.

_He doesn’t know where he is. He feels the creature hovering close, but he can’t see anything through the thick fog. His feet are sore, but he needs to keep on moving. It feels as if he’s been running through the forest for several hours, failing to find a way out._

_He blindly steps forward, and he stumbles into a deserted clearing, the heavy atmosphere stifling. He still feels the heavy weight of something foreign watching him, and when he turns around to seek out the creature, he finally sees the Ravenstag step into the clearing._

_He stumbles and falls onto the ground, his body instinctively moving backward when he sees the hulking form shadowing him in his nightmares. The creature approaches him, ignoring his terrified shouts for it to stay back. He finds himself bodily pinned to the ground, the huffs of the stag prickling his face as he shakes and trembles beneath its bulk._

_“Please, please, let me wake up,” he whispers frantically, struggling to get away._

_The stag only huffs in answer. He has a moment of lucidity before he finds himself impaled on the Ravenstag’s antlers._

He wakes up screaming, his eyes flying wide open.

He’s momentarily confused when he comes to, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to make sense of what’s happening. His body is shaking convulsively, and something or someone is pinning him in place. His body arches as he feels something impaling him, the rough thrusts making him whine in distress, his body shuddering in pain and pleasure. His head feels like it’s on fire.

“H—help,” he calls out weakly. Sweat is falling into his eyes, and he struggles to blink them away. There’s a hand caressing his cheek, and he shudders bodily when he feels insistent hands gripping his hips, someone driving into him brutally. His panic renews at the unmistakable sensation of someone fucking him. “Wha—"

“Ssh, Will, you’re safe here, darling,” a voice hum from somewhere above him. It sounds like Hannibal, and Will’s body goes boneless under the man’s hypnotic tone. He leans his cheek into the hand stroking him and hears a satisfied hum.

His eyes are slowly coming into focus, and he can finally make out Hannibal’s features. His head is cradled on Hannibal’s lap as far as he can tell since he finds himself staring into Hannibal’s eyes when his vision clears, Hannibal’s face upside down and looking down at him with a soft smile.

“Hannibal?” he rasps. His voice feels raw from screaming.

“Yes, Will,” Hannibal answers, his eyes soft.

“Wh—what’s happening?” He’s still disturbingly aware that another man is still fucking him, his sweat-soaked body jerking rhythmically, but he feels too weak to lift his head.

“You’re safe here, Will.” Hannibal’s tone is placating, and his hands are soft against Will’s cheeks.

Will’s eyes flutter close and he shudders at the caress. Yes, he feels safe here because Hannibal is here.

“That’s it,” Hannibal coos. “Just let go, darling boy.”

Will whimpers when he feels something slipping out of him. He feels his ass dripping with fluid as he’s gently hauled up and repositioned to lean against Hannibal, groaning in pain at how sore his body feels. His thoughts come to a screeching halt when he opens his eyes and he sees another Hannibal kneeling in front of him, the other man naked and hard, staring at Will as if he wants to devour him.

Hannibal feels solid and warm behind him, the man’s furry chest itching against his skin. And yet there’s another Hannibal in front of him, looking at him with raw pain and desire.

“Hannibal?” he asks, his voice tremulous. “What—am I still dreaming?”

“Yes,” the Hannibal behind him says, his hands tightening around Will’s stomach as he tugs him closer and traps Will’s arms in his. “It will the best dream you will have in a while, Will.” Hannibal’s hand stray lower until he grips Will’s cock into his fist, and Will moans in pleasure, abruptly realizing that he’s hard.

He didn’t want to think too hard about what’s happening, blindly accepting Hannibal’s explanation as his hands roam over his chest, his cock. There’s no other explanation as to what’s happening otherwise – he has the attention of two Hannibal, one who is currently stoking his arousal with his hands, and the other looking ravenous and overwhelmed at the sight of him.

“Hannibal,” he moans, his body overcome at Hannibal’s teasing touches.

The Hannibal sat in front of him immediately surges forward at Will’s moan, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss. He’s bodily pinned between the two of them and he couldn’t contain his whimpers of pleasure at the feel of Hannibal’s mouth and hands on him. He’s still not entirely sure what’s happening, if he’s inside a particularly vivid dream, but the thoughts fly out of his mind as the two men continue to explore his body. He lets himself fall pliant and lax against them and returns the kiss.

He can feel the broken whimpers against his lips and realizes that it’s coming from Hannibal. “Hannibal,” he says shakily when he’s allowed to breathe, both men giving him reprieve for the moment. “Is… is something wrong?”

“No,” Hannibal chokes out, licking his lips and leaning in for another kiss. “Stay still, Will. We’ll make you feel good.”

Will nods weakly. It feels as if he doesn’t have any choice in the matter. He lets himself be propped up more comfortably against the man behind him, and he feels his legs being spread wide apart.

He gasps when Hannibal thrusts into him with no warning, the motion sending sparks of pleasure inside him, Hannibal sliding in so easily as if they’ve been at it for hours. He feels boneless, caged and trapped between two monsters. If this is a dream, he might prefer this to his waking nightmares.

Hannibal’s thrusts are rough, grounding him in blissful pleasure; he feels branded by the man, and he couldn’t help moaning at the thought of being marked so intimately. The Hannibal behind him has him restrained, and Will can only take what he’s given. 

He hears another man speaking from somewhere in the distance, the honeyed tone unnervingly familiar.

“ _That’s it, you can take it, can’t you Will_? _This was all you ever wanted. To let go and surrender yourself to someone who could see you_. _You like the idea of being taken so roughly, willingly letting them consume you.”_

The other Hannibal doesn’t let Will forget him so easily, his hands roaming Will’s body as he’s fucked on another man’s cock. He feels delirious with pleasure, and he lets himself fall into the sensations.

He’s beginning to feel his mind detaching from what’s happening to him when he’s brought back to his senses by a bite to his neck, his skin stinging in pain.

“Pay attention, Will,” Hannibal says, smiling against Will’s shoulder.

Will gasps anew when his legs are lifted off the bed and Hannibal thrusts into him even more forcefully. The change in angle is enough to make him cry out in incoherent pleasure, Hannibal nailing his prostate with almost every thrust. He screams when he comes without warning, but his gasps of pleasure turn into whimpers of pain when he realizes that Hannibal is still fucking into him with abandon, uncaring of his pleas for him to stop.

He can’t grasp anything for purchase, his legs and ass lifted off the bed and his hands held down by both men. Will whines from the overstimulation, but it only serves to incite them further, the thrusts and bites into his skin turning even more savage.

“Please, oh god, I can’t—please,” he babbles, hardly aware of what he’s saying. “ _Hannibal_.”

“ _Sustomi, prašome_.”

There’s a pause in their movements then, both Hannibal stopping to catch their breaths. Will hears the two of them arguing in dark, low tones while he’s still sobbing beneath them, his whimpers sounding pitiful even to himself.

“You dare tell me to stop?”

“You need not be so rough with him. He’s done you no wrong in this universe.”

There’s a dry chuckle from the distance. In his deliriousness, Will thinks he hears his own tone in the laughter.

“What would you have me do then?”

“I told you we would do this together.”

A pause.

“We could break him.”

“We have tried to do so countless times before, and to no avail. Will is highly adaptable to change in the name of his own survival.”

Will blinks sluggishly, trying to make sense of their conversation, his body still trapped between them. They’re talking about him as if he’s just a body for them to use, and the thought pulls another sobbing whine out of him.

“Hush, darling,” Hannibal says, caressing his cheek once more. “We’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

Will was not given the time to respond. He feels his body being manipulated once more, and he finds himself kneeling between two ravenous men, their hands roaming all over him as he squirms under their attentions. He’s still recovering from his orgasm but the two men seem intent on bringing him to another. “Please,” he whimpers.

The Hannibal behind Will shushes him gently, petting his hair while he bends Will’s body forward to accept the other Hannibal into him yet again, Will straddling the man. It’s another change in angle and he feels full, his body parting for Hannibal’s cock so easily. He feels like he’s been used for countless hours. He whimpers when Hannibal cradles him closer, the man coaxing Will’s face to nestle against his nape.

His eyes flutter close at the feeling of Hannibal inside him, fucking him in gentle rocking motions. It doesn’t feel so bad when he’s held like this, plastered against the man instead of being fucked on his back with no other recourse other than to scream while Hannibal uses him.

He lets himself rock against Hannibal then, and he hears an intake of breath from the other man at the movement. Hannibal’s gentle rocking becomes more intense, his hands gripping Will harder as he fucks into him.

“Will,” Hannibal whispers, his voice raw with emotion.

Will hums into Hannibal’s nape. He still feels sore and abused, but he’s fallen into a dreamlike stupor, his limp body jerking with the rhythmic thrusts. He likes the way Hannibal holds him so close, his hands bruising on Will. It makes him feel loved.

“Feels good,” he slurs, Hannibal’s hands tightening around him at the words.

“ _That’s it, Will_ ,” his own voice calls out to him. “ _Look at how loved you are. You know this monster intimately, don’t you? You have accepted him right from the start, even if you don’t know his true face. Just let him in and let yourself take it_.”

Will is taken out of his reverie when he feels another finger prodding against his entrance, pushing in gently around Hannibal’s cock. His voice breaks on a pained cry, and Hannibal pauses his thrusts, holding himself still inside Will. There are a few seconds of reprieve before he feels another finger pushing in insistently, and Will’s whimpers renew. He hears his disembodied voice talking again as the other Hannibal opens him up even further, his body trembling and shaking with tension.

“ _Don’t worry, Will. You can take it, can’t you? You’ve been practically begging for this monster to touch you and mark you as his. You love it._ ”

He doesn’t know how long his body was toyed with, his pleas coming out in broken whines, both men placating him with kisses and soft touches. Will finally feels the fingers slipping out of him, but he immediately stiffens when he feels another cock nudging in alongside the one he’s already penetrated on. “No, no, no, no,” he cries, “oh God please, I can’t, I _can’t_.”

Hannibal shushes him as he pushes in slowly, the movement making Will gasp in pain and overstimulation. His cries and pleas were ignored, both men grunting in exertion and satisfaction when both of their cocks are fully buried inside Will. He feels stuffed, his breaths coming out in loud sobs as he’s held securely against both Hannibal, unable to move.

Will’s cries only intensify when they start moving inside him, the sensations overwhelming him as he’s lifted up and down on their cocks. He can’t control his body anymore, the two men using him fiercely as he shudders with every thrust, their cocks nudging insistently inside him, the sparks of pleasure overpowering the pain of being impaled on two cocks. 

“ _Look at you, taking them both so beautifully. How willingly you fall apart for them._ ”

He can’t concentrate on anything – his mind is shattering from the onslaught of emotions he feels from the men fucking into him; his body a broken, pliable doll for them to use as they take and take and take.

He’s barely aware of his own screams, and it only increases in volume as he feels his cock hardening again from the overstimulation. He feels Hannibal’s hand wrapping around his mouth, the firm touch making him groan.

“Shh, darling. It won’t do to have the dogs rushing in when they hear you screaming so beautifully for us.”

His screams give way to broken sobs as he lets himself fall back onto the men handling him so roughly. Minutes passed as they took him apart and put him back together. The only sounds Will can make out are his own muffled moans, both Hannibal grunting and growling as they fuck him, the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, and his own disembodied voice cooing at how well he’s taking them both.

Will comes with an incoherent cry, his orgasm dry and his voice hoarse from screaming.

He feels both men reaching their climax inside him, flooding him in thick spurts as he gasps and shakes in their arms.

His mouth is captured in a kiss, and he lets Hannibal in, too tired to reciprocate. He barely realizes the man is crying, the salty taste of his tears invading Will’s mouth.

He tries to raise his hand to comfort Hannibal, but his vision darkens and he falls into the stream.

Will is left to deal with the aftermath of instigating his own rape (well, his alternate self technically, but he supposes it’s the same thing in the end).

He had been watching the two Hannibal taking their time to map Will’s body and take their pleasure from the younger man, and it’s almost amusing how he can detach himself from it. It’s one of his coping mechanisms born out of his interactions with Hannibal, after all.

His Hannibal had been a caring, manipulative lover, content to let his hands roam on Will’s body in light, teasing touches. Hannibal has always been attentive with his mouth and fingers, and he coaxes his lover with pleasure, the noises coming out from Will a clear indication that he’s enjoying Hannibal’s reverent touches.

Where his Hannibal had been a tender lover, the Other Hannibal is a merciless one. He had seen and felt the depth of this Hannibal’s hurt, and the man takes it out on Will in a brutal contrast to his counterpart. His thrusts are unrestrained, vicious and marking, his touches firm and bruising. It was abundantly clear he wanted to leave an imprint on his soul in this Will, contrary to his claim that his main purpose for going back to the past was to save the man from himself.

It was only when his Hannibal intervened that the brutal claiming turned into gentle lovemaking, both of them reveling in their perverse, incestuous synergy.

Will was only too happy to encourage them both from where he was perched on the chair, his vantage point perfect to observe and encourage his alternate self to let go. He lets them have their fill; his mind is enthralled on the tableau before him. He feels powerful, like an all-knowing deity shaping his own destiny.

When both of them have finally sated their hunger and lust inside the younger Will, he was not surprised to see the Other Hannibal breaking apart emotionally, his kisses continuing long after the younger man has fallen unconscious from exhaustion. 

At any other time, he would be amused at the thought of Hannibal falling apart by his hands, but this Hannibal is too raw on his own empathy, and it’s all too easy for him to remember rejecting his own Hannibal in their timeline.

It took several minutes for both Hannibal to compose themselves, their chests heaving from exertion. They finally pull out of Will and extricate themselves from their positions, laying the unconscious man down onto the bed. His Hannibal couldn’t resist stroking the sleeping man’s face once more before he turns to smile at Will.

“Have you enjoyed yourself, my love?” he asks Will.

Will’s smile comes and goes. “It has been… a revealing experience,” he admits.

“I don’t doubt it.”

Will rises from his seat and approaches the bed, smirking at Hannibal before pulling him in for a kiss. “You will never get tired of pushing my buttons, will you?”

“Never. Your mercurial moods are always a sight to behold.”

Will snorts, pushing Hannibal aside.

The Other Hannibal is still seated next to the younger Will, looking at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world, his hand curled around Will’s.

He doesn’t doubt the sentiment, but Hannibal’s love will always come with consequences.

“Both of you should get cleaned up,” Will says. “We need to leave soon if we don’t want to fuck this timeline up more than we already did.”

Both of the Hannibal make their way to his bathroom (Will noting with an awry smile that he didn’t have to tell them where it is), although the Other Hannibal had been reluctant to leave the bed.

Will sighs. He doesn’t want to think of the repercussions of what he has done and orchestrated tonight. He would’ve liked to think he’s being merciful to his alternate self than either Hannibal would have been. But who’s he kidding, he’s just as bad as them.

He takes a look at the state of the younger Will. It’s weird to think of the other man as “Will” in his head. He looks so vulnerable like this; his unscarred face looks young in his sleep. There are bruises littering his battered body, the blooming marks clear on his pale skin, remnants of Hannibal and Will’s claims on his body.

Will curiously eyes the come leaking out of the other man’s body, slipping in two fingers into his ass to draw the fluid out. His fingers came away wet, and he slips them into the other Will’s mouth, forcing him to lick it clean in his sleep.

“Are you still not satisfied playing with yourself?”

Will smirks, tilting his head slightly to observe Hannibal from the corner of his eyes. Hannibal has changed back into his clothes, and he guesses the other Hannibal wouldn’t be too far behind. “You would do the same if you were in my place.”

The serene smile Hannibal gives him is answer enough.

“I see why you’d let me do this now,” Will drawls, shifting back slightly to make room for Hannibal on the bed. “I’m surprised you didn’t take advantage of me earlier on in our acquaintance. God knows it would’ve been all too easy. Look at how little it took for him to beg you two to fuck him.”

“You are being deliberately obtuse again, Will. While I love seeing your vulnerability, I was not drawn to you because of it; it’s only one facet of what makes you uniquely you. I much prefer your surrender when it is willingly given.” Hannibal pauses, considering. “Though I admit there is some appeal to seeing him so helpless at our hands, a vessel to be filled.”

Will snorts, shaking his head. “Well,” he says in a low tone, leaning in close to Hannibal. “You can always drug me when we get back, do it when I least suspected it. Take me as you see fit. The only way I know anything has happened at all is by the twinge of pain I would feel when I wake up.” He gives Hannibal a chaste kiss, Hannibal immediately catching his mouth for more, growling and biting Will’s lips fiercely.

There’s a soft sound of someone clearing his throat and they break apart, Will staring coolly at the other Hannibal as he emerges into the living room. Will turns back to his Hannibal. “Help me carry him into the bathtub. I need to clean him up.”

Hannibal’s expression is torn between acquiescing and denying Will the help. Will suspects he likes looking at the younger man so viciously marked by the three of them and wanted to memorize him as such in his mind palace. Will raises his eyebrow; Hannibal obliges him.

Will has methodically cleaned his counterpart, making sure the traces of their claims are gone before carrying him back to the bed with Hannibal’s help. He dresses the unconscious man in his customary t-shirt and boxers before tucking him back into bed.

While Will was in the bathroom, one of the Hannibal had apparently called the dogs back in, and they’ve settled down in their respective beds by the fireplace by the time Will was dressed. His Hannibal is nowhere to be seen for now, but he sees the other Hannibal sitting at the couch by the fireplace.

He ignores the other man and walks over to Winston, who’s still looking at him a little warily. He kneels and scratches Winston’s ears. He’s feeling indulgent, looking at his pack of dogs, unharmed and useless as usual when it comes to warning him about Hannibal’s intrusion into their lives. He wishes he could bring them with him to the future, but even he knows that’s crossing a line. The younger Will would be devastated.

Will is aware that the other Hannibal had been staring at him when he had emerged from the bathroom. He had been ignoring the stare, but he had known he would have to deal with that part of this fucked up adventure later.

He supposes that “later” is now. He sighs, getting up from his crouch on the floor, letting Winston sniff him one last time before he turns back to the other man.

“I thought you’d have left by now,” Will says, standing next to Hannibal and gesturing him to the door.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes, I’d gathered that. Come on, we’ll talk outside.”

It’s still dark out, the chill from the night seeping into his skin as they walk out onto the porch. The grounds are still covered in a heavy fog, and it will be hours before dawn breaks. He wonders idly how much of the time the three of them spent here would shape the course of this Will’s life.

“Well, ask me now while you still have me here,” he says without preamble.

Hannibal is looking at him like he’s seeing a ghost from his future past, which is probably an apt comparison considering the circumstances. “You… rejected me.”

“Don’t tell me things I already know.”

“But you’re with me now. My future self.”

Will sighs, pondering how much he can tell this Hannibal without fucking up another timeline. “I think you already got your answers from my husband,” he says wryly. He briefly enjoys the minute change of expression in Hannibal’s face at the word “husband” – if he had to guess, he would categorize it as jealousy. “I did reject him. He repented and made up for it by being practically celibate for three years. I sought him out again. We… came to an understanding. Let’s just say I agreed to join him and we took our plunge into the unknown.”

Hannibal had been studying his face while he was talking; it's still creepy how Hannibal refuses to break eye contact with him at times. “Perhaps I could have the same fate, then, in my timeline.”

Will smiles gently. “I would tell you good luck, but I bet Hannibal’s already given you a whole handbook on ‘how to capture your FBI agent and get him on your side by surrendering to the FBI and paying for your mistakes for three years’, so.”

Hannibal looks pained at the crass description; Will figures he must’ve hit the bullseye. “I should’ve asked him for the handbook, had I known there was one. I only received a brief narrative.”

Will bursts out laughing at that, the old scar in his cheek twinging in pain at the gesture.

Hannibal smiles softly. He steps closer to Will, telegraphing his movement as he leans in to kiss him.

Will closes his eyes and leans into it. It feels different from the way his Hannibal kisses him. This Hannibal kisses him like he’s memorizing the taste of him for the three years to come, his hands mapping Will’s features, worshipful. He pours his hunger and anger into Will as if he’s a receptacle for the man’s heartbreak, and Will accepts it, humming around Hannibal’s ravenous kiss.

They pull apart after a few minutes, their breath fogging in the cold air. Will keeps his eyes closed, and Hannibal pecks his lips once more before stepping away reluctantly.

He opens his eyes and sees a resigned man standing before him. Hannibal looks as if he knows what’s waiting for him on the other side of his timeline. There are millions of things that could happen to divert his timeline into different outcomes, but Will naively wishes he would get his Will somehow.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal says, smiling slightly.

“Goodbye, Hannibal.”

Pain blooms across Hannibal’s face at those words; the same words that his Will had uttered to him hours ago in his own timeline. 

_Good_ , Will thinks viciously. He hopes the lesson sticks. 

Hannibal walks away into the foggy night, his figure like a mirage in an oasis.

Will enters the house and sees Hannibal moving around, meticulously clearing the traces of their presence. Hannibal looks up, a small smile on his face when he sees Will.

“Have our guest left us, then?”

“Technically, _we’re_ also guests. Not necessarily a welcomed one at that.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I thought he might.”

“He did, and I kissed him back.”

“I thought you might.”

Will smirks. “You egged him on, didn’t you?”

“You are utterly irresistible. He did not need any encouragement.”

Will laughs for the second time that day. (Does it still count as a day when you’re in another timeline?) “And you’re a cheesy romantic. Are you done yet?”

“Almost. We can leave soon if you will give me a minute to prepare for our travel.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re ready. I have a phone call to make.”

Hannibal has always been a light sleeper, but he has rarely been woken up by a call at 4 am ever since he left his practice as a surgeon. He detests being woken up for an unplanned murder. (Scheduled murders are another matter altogether.)

He does feel like making more sausages to feed Will’s dogs, so he supposes it’s a good opportunity as any.

There’s a momentary pause when he sees the caller ID. His interest piqued; he answers the phone after several seconds of confusion. “Will?”

Hannibal hears several intakes of breath at the other end of the line, Will sounding distraught. “Dr Lecter—” he hears another whimper as Will tries to compose himself enough to speak. “Hannibal… I think— I think something’s wrong with me. I woke up and I thought it was all a dream but I think my dreams are _real_ —” his voice breaks into a whimper.

“Will,” Hannibal says, cutting him off. “Will, listen to me. Are you at home?”

“Yes,” Will whispers.

“I will be there within an hour. Stay inside.”

He hangs up without waiting for a confirmation, rising to dress himself before making his way out to Wolf Trap.

_A fortuitous start to the day_ , Hannibal thinks.

He had made plans to visit Will on this very morning to plant an important evidence linking Will to the Chesapeake Ripper. His mind is working in overdrive throughout his whole journey to Wolf Trap, conjuring up possible scenarios on what could have possibly happened to Will and how serious it must have been to make him call Hannibal, of all people.

Abigail is safely sheltered at the cliff house, while one of her ears sits in the cooler box, secured in the trunk of his car.

His arrival at Wolf Trap is surprisingly uneventful. He would’ve thought that Will would be waiting for him at the door, as the man had seemed agitated during the phone call.

He steps inside the house quietly. He looks around to see the dogs eyeing him curiously, some of them greeting him with insistent sniffs until Hannibal hands them his homemade sausages.

The dogs taken care of, Hannibal glances to the bed in the living room, and he sees his target sleeping on the bed. Despite the man's previously agitated state, it looks as if Will is relatively calmer now as Hannibal approaches him. Will seems to be in deep sleep, his face looking untroubled for once.

There’s also an unmistakable smell of sex and sweat in the air.

 _Curiouser and curiouser_.

Hannibal snaps his fingers in front of Will’s face, studying his reaction. There being no response from the man, he decides to take advantage, removing the blanket covering Will’s figure. He studies Will’s body, looking for signs of injuries due to sleepwalking.

He did not expect to find several bruises on Will’s neck and shoulders, as well as imprints of foreign touches on his hips and flanks. The marks seem recent, which means it must’ve happened just hours before Will had called him. He feels an irrational anger at the signs of intrusion. What could have happened to Will in the last few hours?

Instead of waking Will up, he decides to take a tour around the house to look for any clues or evidence supporting his suspicions.

His attention is caught by an envelope sitting on top of the piano that Will keeps near the fireplace. The envelope bears his name on the front, and he opens it to find a letter inside, his curiosity rising to an all-time high.

He is stunned to find that the letter is written in his own ciphers, the handwriting disturbingly familiar. The letter bears only a few words, and Hannibal feels a quiet sense of foreboding when he reads it.

_Take care of him. Or I will._

**Author's Note:**

>  **ephemeral:** lasting a very short time; lasting one day only
> 
> I guess you could tell I was struggling to write the characters with the whole "same name issue", sorry if the whole Other/Younger/alternate thing bothered you, it bothered me too :'D (I could've dubbed them as Tweedle-Hanni and Tweedle-Hanners but I would be torturing myself writing that out, so.)
> 
> Kudos & comments are appreciated <3 Come shout with me about Hannibal & his two braincells if you want, I'm @MaddieContrary on Twitter & Tumblr!


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